Once Upon a December
by SkylarFiari
Summary: Young Prince Blaine of Russia is being hunted by the mad-man Sebastian, while he travels with two strangers to Paris. There, he hopes to find who he is, and what he can no longer remember. And Anastasia Fusion Fic.


**A/N Hi readers! Thank you for clicking on my first ever story! :D Feel free to review, give me helpful advice, or even follow my Anastasia fusion fic! There won't be any Klaine this chapter, seeing as they're 8... none the less, I'll try to get Chapter 1 up ASAP! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Anastasia.**

Prologue

In the year 1916, a small golden music box plays a haunting tune as an elderly woman turns its key. Round and round go a black bird and a canary, steadily chasing each other in an endless circle as the song plays. Their determination never falters, and never grows. They simply turn, chase, turn, chase. Eventually they begin to slow, and as they do, the woman smiles sadly and closes the jeweled lid. After a slight pause, she places the trinket in her purse and turns to walk out into the snow and wind toward her royal carriage, waiting to bring her to a lavish ball and her dearest grandson, the light of her day, and a bright aura in a dark time of revolution; Blaine.

* * *

><p>Near the center of Russia was a grand palace, which seemed to glow as if it were enchanted. There lived the Anderson dynasty, who ruled over their country with pride. It included Tsar Cornelius Anderson, his wife Kathryn, his mother Melissa, and his son, and heir, Blaine. They lived in luxury, with delicious foods, lush clothes, and guards to keep the brewing revolution off of their doorstep. In spite of the growing turmoil, they continue to celebrate their good fortune and happy lives; today with a ball. Although, this celebration is for far more than high spirits. It signifies the 300th anniversary of the Anderson family's rule. Prestigious guests from all around the country arrive in flowing gowns and colorful suits. They dance, drink, and laugh as the night drifts on. But none dance quite as fast, laugh quite as loud, or glow quite as bright as Blaine.<p>

Blaine was a young 8 years old at the time, full of energy and glee. He spun round and round with his mother, laughing and skipping as they traveled across the polished stone floor. It was hard not to smile when Blaine was near. He glowed brighter than any star, could make the saddest person laugh, and soften the hardest heart with a single glance from his bright hazel eyes. But of course, there were some who couldn't see past the small things about Blaine, who just couldn't see what a truly remarkable person he was. All they saw was a young boy who played with dolls, cared quite a bit about keeping his clothes clean, and, in their eyes, was a disgrace. Blaine doesn't yet understand why people glare at him when his family isn't near, or why they whisper cruel words about him. But he will in time.

Meanwhile, Blaine is still a carefree young boy. He pulls away from a silly waltz with his mother, and runs up the carpeted steps in the very front of the room. In one of the three lavish thrones sits his elderly grandmother, Melissa, who has been watching him while he danced with that same sad smile on her face. The boy flashes a giant grin at her before speaking.

"Grandmother! Did you see me dancing? I'm getting so much better!" He practically shouts, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Well, of course I did!" Melissa exclaims, smiling at her grandson. "And I would say you have practically mastered the waltz!" This causes Blaine impossibly large grin to get even bigger.

Suddenly, Blaine stops bouncing and the grin falls from his face, remembering what will be happening the next morning. "Grandmother, must you go to Paris?" he asks quietly. Melissa's heart breaks knowing she caused this sadness in her grandson.

"Blaine, I wish I could stay, but they need me in Paris," she says, sadness prominent in her voice. "But I have something for you, to help make distance easier." Blaine looked up with wide eyes filled with curiosity.

"A present?" Blaine asks, his voice hopeful and a ghost of a smile returning to his face.

She laughs. "Yes, a present." Melissa opens her bag to pull out the beautiful music box. Blaine's eyes widen when he sees the golden gift in her palm.

"It's beautiful," he says in a hushed voice, in awe at the sparkling contraption.

"It's a music box," his grandmother says, opening the lid and turning its key. "Whenever you miss me, you just turn this key and our lullaby will play." Note after note begin to pour out of the small box, playing a tune familiar to Blaine.

"I promise, grandmother, I'll play it every night before I go to sleep, because you won't be there to sing to with me," he vows. She smiles sadly at the young boy, wishing she didn't have to cause him such pain. Possibly for the last time in a long while, Melissa begins to sing the lullaby along with the music box.

_On the wind,_

_'Cross the sea_

_Hear this song and remember_

Blaine smiles at the calming melody, and begins to sing with her, his beautiful voice carrying behind the thrones to the ears of a small eavesdropper with auburn hair and bright blue eyes.

_Soon you'll be_

_Home with me_

_Once upon a December_

She chuckles as Blaine twirls and leaps around her, committing the scene to memory. When the music stops, she pulls out the key and hands it to Blaine. "Read what it says."

He holds it up close to his face, squinting to decipher the small inscription. "Together... in Paris." He gasps. "Oh, really Grandmother?" She nods, and he squeals happily, After tugging the chain over his head, he jumps into her lap, throwing his arms around her neck. She laughs, squeezing her grandson tightly, smiling with the consolation of their meeting again.

* * *

><p>As Blaine and Melissa embrace, the eavesdropper watches with curious eyes. From behind him, pots bang in the other room as cooks and servants slave over hot stoves to prepare lavish foods for the guests of the Andersons. The small boy, looking to be around the same age as the heir, had only just escaped the hot kitchen to rest his tired feet. He had spotted the two and, being the young boy he is, let his curiosity take control.<p>

"Kurt!" came a loud voice from behind him. He spun around, to see the head waiter, Mr. Schuester, with a stern but kind look on his face. "What are you doing out here? We need you to bring out more drinks to the guests!" The man rushed towards him and took hold of his arm, pulling Kurt back to work as he caught a final glimpse of the strange golden box.

* * *

><p>As Melissa and Blaine broke apart, a dark shadow fell over the ball. The grand front doors bang open, and a man with gaunt eyes and dull brown hair stalks into the the center of the room, the crowd parting before him and a mangy dog at his heals. His name is Sebastian Smythe, and he has made it his mission to destroy the Anderson family. The once handsome man sold his soul to the devil to overthrow the Tsar, and eliminate the line of heirs. He is power-hungry, mad, and ready to go any length to get what he wants.<p>

"Get out of my palace," growls Cornelius, anger flashing in his eyes as he approaches the intruder.

"But, I am your Confident, your highness!" Sebastian mocks, knowing fully well he had manipulated the Tsar into believing he was a good and holy man.

"Confident?" Cornelius laughs. "You are a _traitor_! Get out!"

"You think you can challenge me? I have more power than any man in Russia!" Sebastian slowly raises his right hand, which is grasping a sickly green vial that glows menacingly. "_I _banish _you,_ with a curse!" Gasps are heard all around the room, as all the guests, servants, and royals tensely listen to the crazed man's booming voice. "You and your family will die within the fortnight! I will not rest until I see the end of the Anderson line! _**Forever**_**!**"

Suddenly, the vile shoots out a blinding flash, and an extravagant chandelier falls into the center of the crowd. Green lights streak across the room, smash windows, and disappear into the night, sealing the unrest of Russia and beginning the Russian revolution. Screams were heard throughout the ballroom as guests and royalty alike dashed to safety, and to an escape from the revolting citizens outside the palace doors.

* * *

><p>Melissa and Blaine dash through the corridors of the palace, pushing through the panicking mob toward Blaine's room. After what felt like years, they finally arrive at the large door with Blaine in the lead, desperate to collect his prized possessions before the revolting citizens ransack his beloved home. He rushes around, trying to collect his favorite books, toys, and pictures before Melissa pulls him away.<p>

"Blaine, we don't have time!" she shouts, urgently pulling Blaine back towards the exit. Melissa then feels a sharp tug on her dress sleeve. She spins around to see the young servant boy that had been eavesdropping before.

"This way!" he urges, tugging her to a section of the wall that had been opened to reveal an escape exit. She lets out a breathe, and tugs Blaine harder as she dashes toward the way out.

As Blaine runs toward the tunnel, he hears a dull _thump_ behind him, as if something hard had hit the carpeted floor. He whips his head around to see his beautiful music box laying behind him on the ground, lid slightly ajar.

"My music box!" he cries, trying to turn around for it.

"No, go!" Kurt shouts, shoving him through the door and slamming it behind him as the entrance to the bedroom bursts open, revealing a group of Russian citizens.

"Where are they, boy?" the leader growls, charging towards him. Kurt gives no answer, but begins to throw random objects at the men, hoping to ward them off. They easily dodge them, and Kurt feels a sharp pain in the back of his head as his skull is bashed in with a rifle. His vision goes black as he topples to the floor, but not before he sees the forgotten music box lying next to his head, and the two birds frozen in time.

* * *

><p>Outside, the escaping pair dash across a frozen lake, going as fast as possible without tripping over their feet, slipping on the ice, or getting lost in the falling snow. Then, from behind them, a raspy voices says, "Not so fast, young prince," and Blaine is being wrenched from Melissa's grasp and pulled down onto the ice. He screams, trying to claw his away from the evil man, but he only tightens his grip on the young boys leg.<p>

"Sebastian!" Melissa cries, grabbing Blaine under his arms and desperately pulling so as to free him from the soulless man's paws. Along with his own grip is the teeth of his canine companion, a black dog with matted fur and wide brown eyes. Together, they begin to pull Blaine closer to them.

"Let me go! PLEASE!" Blaine screams, writhing on top of the frozen lake.

"You'll never escape me child," he cackles. "Never!" Suddenly, the thin ice makes a threatening snap. They all freeze, watching as cracks spread from beneath Sebastian's feet. Then the surface shifts, and Sebastian is falling into the freezing water of the lake. Melissa brings Blaine closer to her, away from the splashing water and dangerous cracking surface. The distraught dog circles the newly formed hole, wanting to help it's master but not knowing how. Eventually, Sebastian is completely immersed in the water, left to freeze or drown in the murky lake.

* * *

><p>Some time later, the two Andersons are running through a crowded train station, desperate to catch the already moving train away from Russia, to Paris. Melissa pulls Blaine faster, and grabs onto the railing on the back of the moving vehicle. She jumps, pulling herself over the top the edge, and lands in the safety of the last car. She then turns around to grab Blaine and hoist him over, but the train is moving too fast. He has started to fall behind, and his small hand is just out of reach.<p>

"Blaine!" she screams, leaning as far as possible over the railing without toppling over.

"Grandmother!" he shrieks, before stumbling over a crack in the pavement, and crashing down next to the tracks, unconscious.

"_Blaine! No!_" Melissa shouts, as she grows farther away from her only grandson, looking at him for the last time for many years, or, quite possibly, forever.


End file.
